


you're the only friend i need

by leetheshark



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Alcohol, Blowjobs, M/M, Pool Sex, references to murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27517531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leetheshark/pseuds/leetheshark
Summary: The night before Roman's 25th birthday, he and Victor break into his parents' pool.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	you're the only friend i need

Roman hasn’t lived with his parents for a few years, now. When he dropped out of college at nineteen, that brief taste of living alone had him begging his parents for his own place. They said no, because they wanted to keep him under their supervision. For the next couple years, he kept begging and broke a few family heirlooms, and it became apparent to Mr. and Mrs. Sionis that nothing they did would change Roman for the better.

So they bought him an apartment.

Victor heard the story unfold as it happened, on the days Roman snuck away when he was supposed to be working at Janus Corp., and the Friday nights that Victor took Roman out for long drives because he was dying to get away from his parents. When Roman was particularly upset, which he often was whenever he had to talk to his parents about _anything,_ Victor had to rub his shoulders or suck his dick until he calmed down enough to talk—and once he got started, he could talk for hours, hissing like an animal as he relayed the minutiae of whatever happened in more detail than Victor ever needed to hear.

Victor takes care of Roman, so he listened. But he was still relieved when Roman finally got his own place in downtown Gotham. It meant they didn’t have to sneak around anymore, but more importantly, it meant Roman would finally shut the fuck up about it.

Not that Victor would ever say that.

Even though Roman doesn’t live with his parents anymore, he still has the keys to the house. It’s the perfect place to hang out when Roman’s parents are away, maybe break some shit if Roman feels like it, and be long gone by the time they get back.

Tonight, Roman is celebrating. They break in at sunset (“Shut up, Zsasz, it’s not breaking in if I have the keys.”) and skinny-dip in the backyard pool. Even after nightfall, the summer heat lingers. Victor lies on a pink, doughnut-shaped pool float, with his arms and legs spread and dangling into the water. When he tips his head back, his raspberry-red hair leaks dye into the pool.

Victor’s never been bothered by his own nudity. During the year he spent at Arkham, it was a great way to make people uncomfortable.

And Roman is Roman, so he thinks his body is a gift to mankind. Victor kind of agrees. Roman struts around like he owns the place, which he probably thinks he does, since his parents are fifty and, as far as Roman’s concerned, ticking time bombs that are only good for his inheritance.

(Victor’s offered to help speed up the process. Roman always agrees and then changes his mind last-minute. Most people don’t want their parents to die. Even Victor didn’t, back then. So he gets it. He can’t expect too much from Roman too fast.)

Lanterns hang from the roofed deck and illuminate the backyard in dim yellow. Roman makes cocktails at the outdoor bar and drinks at a reasonable pace, for once. Miraculously, nothing’s wrong today.

He’s also in high spirits because his twenty-fifth birthday is tomorrow. It isn’t an accident that his parents are out of town this week. According to Roman, they’ve left him alone for his birthday every year since he was old enough to embarrass them. Also according to Roman, he doesn’t care anymore.

Victor stares at Roman’s ass while Roman makes something with a shaker and pours it into a lowball glass. His shoulder-length hair is wet from his previous dip in the pool, and water drips down his broad shoulders over his naked back. When he turns around, he lazes against the bar and cocks his hips like he’s showing off. That’s a nice view, too.

“You want another drink?” Roman asks, between sips of his own.

“I’m good.” Victor’s already had two, and he’s not a big drinker in general. Not like Roman, who takes every opportunity to get messy drunk.

Roman shrugs as if to say ‘suit yourself,’ then walks over to the pool and sits on the edge. He savors his drink with his eyes closed and his feet in the water, humming along sporadically to whatever tune plays in his head. It’s nice. It’s so rare that Roman’s not distracted and the two of them actually get to _enjoy_ each other.

Well, in an emotional sense.

Physically, they spend plenty of time enjoying each other.

When Roman finishes his drink, he sets it down on the edge of the pool, climbs to his feet, and dives into the water. The splash rains on Victor where he floats. Roman crosses the pool with a butterfly stroke—he’s had professional swimming lessons and likes to show off. It’s a good deal, because Victor likes to watch him.

Roman surfaces between Victor’s legs, dripping wet anew. His long hair is plastered to his face and neck, and when he reaches up to brush it out of the way, his bicep and pectoral move in a way that demands Victor’s attention. He grins at Victor, lips tinged blue from the cold water.

“Hey boss,” Victor says. He gives Roman a crooked smile.

Victor doesn’t really work for Roman, except for how he sometimes kills people that piss Roman off and Roman sometimes buys him things. But Roman gets off on feeling in-charge, and Victor gets off on being subservient (but only for Roman).

“Hey,” Roman says. And then, he bends down and sinks his teeth into Victor’s thigh. Victor’s gasp turns right into a moan. Roman lavishes over the bitten spot with his tongue, and Victor spreads his legs further and lets him. It feels good, Roman’s mouth hot on Victor’s pool water-chilled skin. It feels even better when Roman kisses and nips up Victor’s scarred thigh, making his way right up between Victor’s legs.

“Hey,” Victor says, again. He reaches down to tangle his fingers loosely in Roman’s hair. “What’re you doing?”

“Baby, what’s it look like I’m doing?” Roman nuzzles against Victor’s soft cock. Apparently, if Roman has his way, it won’t be soft for much longer. “What’s it feel like I’m doing?”

Roman almost never does this, because of the simple fact that he only cares about himself, but he’s also kind of a slut and almost as horny as Victor is, so he likes pretty much everything. So does Victor. They make a good match.

It also helps that Roman has fucked-up ideas about what’s gross and what’s not.

Victor’s apartment—gross.

Watching Victor peel the skin off a corpse—endlessly fascinating.

Come on his clothes—a breakup-worthy offense.

Come in his mouth—apparently, completely fine.

Roman starts to press soft kisses along Victor’s cock. It isn’t enough to really feel good, but it’s enough to make Victor have to resist the urge to pull Roman’s hair for more.

Pulling Roman’s hair is also a breakup-worthy offense.

If Victor counted their breakups like he counts his kills, they might actually hurt. But Roman can never seem to stay away from Victor for more than a day or two. _Maybe_ three, if he’s feeling particularly bitchy.

Victor already knows he can’t live without Roman. Roman’s the same, but he’s still figuring it out.

Finally—when Roman’s decided Victor is satisfactorily hard—he wraps his lips fully around Victor and lets Victor into his mouth. His brow knits in concentration as he slides nearly all the way down, and Victor’s thighs tremble involuntarily. _Fuck._ Even the sight of Roman taking his cock makes Victor feel two seconds away from passing out.

Roman’s too prissy to deepthroat, but Victor isn’t big enough to make that a problem. Small moans escape Roman’s throat every time he bobs his head, and Victor feels like putty. He drops his head against the back of his tube and releases Roman’s hair, surrendering to Roman completely.

Either Roman’s way too good at this for someone who rarely does it, or Victor’s just enchanted by him no matter what. Victor looks up at the starry sky, because he knows if he looks at Roman he won’t last long, and moans, because he can’t help it.

When Roman slides off to nuzzle Victor’s thigh again, Victor gladly takes the reprieve, even while Roman mouthing at his scars makes his cock twitch. “Baby,” Roman coos.

Victor just groans his answer.

So Roman bites him again.

“Yeah, boss.”

“Look at me.”

Whining involuntarily, Victor raises his head, and Roman slides right back onto him. Roman’s so fucking beautiful with a cock in his mouth. He’s so fucking beautiful all the time, but especially now, with his wet hair shining in the lantern light, and his eyelashes dripping with pool water, and his lips stretched around Victor, making him feel so, _so_ good. Victor watches Roman slide up and down his cock and resists the urge to thrust into Roman’s mouth.

“Oh, fuck.” Victor’s voice is shaking, and Roman’s probably _so_ pleased with himself. He moans around Victor, just for show, and _fuck._

Victor comes in Roman’s mouth so hard he almost falls out of his tube.

If Victor could move, he’d tug Roman in for a kiss and taste himself in Roman’s mouth, but he can’t. Instead, he lies in his tube and watches from the corner of his eye as Roman pulls off, spits into the pool, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.

Then, Roman gives Victor a playful look, and before Victor has a chance to realize what he’s doing, upends Victor’s float and sends Victor tumbling into the water.

It wakes Victor up in an instant.

When he surfaces, Roman is already climbing out of the pool. He sprawls out on one of the white cushioned lounge chairs his parents use for parties, spreads his legs on either side of it, and shows Victor exactly how affected he is. “Well?” Roman asks. “Going to return the favor?” And then, he starts stroking himself—right on the chair that some unassuming old person will probably be drinking cocktails in, in a week or two.

It shouldn’t be so hot.

“Hurry up before I finish,” Roman calls, and speeds up his hand.

Victor stumbles out of the pool and doesn’t even care that he scrapes his hands and knees on the edge.


End file.
